A Women Yet a Tree by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
A Women Yet a Tree
A Woman yet a Tree
By Margaret York
Long ago, before I was born,
I stood next to women in concentration camps
Before that, I kissed brazenly in open fields.
Before that I was just a seed that grew trees.
I stood next to women in concentration camps
who did not fear death.
Before that, I was just a seed that grew trees,
bearing fruit
who did not know death.
I was She. A women, yet a tree
bearing fruit of inexperience.
And She was ignited with life.
I was She, a woman, yet a tree.
Before that, I kissed brazenly in open fields
And She was ignited with life,
long ago, before I was born.
MORNING ATTIC
by Margaret York
I used to wish those winter weeks
would never end. Our time in the attic
precious, and spring
seemed so far away. Mornings
were spent in bed, under blanketed warmth that marooned
our bodies on an island of cottony sorrow.
Sorrow drove us day by day, week
by week. I prayed to man in the moon
for just another night in the attic,
your musky scent on my pillow in the morning.
"I'll be there soon," you said, "Spring
is not that far away." And spring
came, but brought along with it those words: " I'm sorry.
This isn't working…Someone else…" A different "morning
girl". There was no need for me, or the w
Her hands felt like crinkly silk
And her kitchen always smelled like thyme.
She spent a lot of time in the garden, but one Friday
We curled up in her lime-green loveseat
Listening to the Beatles repeat "Number
Nine, number nine." Which sounded lonely
And fragmented. But she was there, to link
My orphaned music history, which was so tame,
To so something more epic. Filled with Nico's cries
And the bluesy wails of Benny Goodman's swing.
Their music defied entropy
And in their presence I was humbled
By etchings in the sandstone
House of Floozies by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
House of Floozies
It all started with a pint of beer
Last November at a fraternity party.
The plight of the virgin man ever present
As their nomads lead the
Way, weaseling into the pants of every
Girl names Angelica Swallows,
Committing treason in every room of the house,
Moaning, "Mmm Rebecca…" Smack.
I don't know how many Johnny's refuse to wear helmets
With sluts that flit about like butterfly tattoos,
And yellow urine testing positive for gonorrhea.
But I know of at least one baby spawned in
The house that flutters with floozies
And sucks the dough from freshman to have a good time.
His stare is all but subtle.
If all his thoughts had a spoon
He would eat me raw, like an apple
Until my core comes un-spun.
His voice is two thousand and one
Colors painted on the nipple of my breast.
Holding captive for a moments millennium,
Its fleshy timbre and caress.
He is heat induced goosebumps that rise like cacti
Prickling down the scorching valley; eons
Until they befall death, by the cataract
Of crest, that undulates like elastic.
He knows nothing of geometry
Or of loves stigma.
The air leaving his body is
traveling with the sound: whoosh.
The strange, gawky looking boy runs
Down the ramp, accidentally spilling all the change
From his pockets, as he passes the sleazy
Motel, where people enter and exit quickly from across
The street. He stops on First Street to take a breath of
Air. (His mouth opening and closing, counterfeit of flounder.)
And maybe to watch the people as they pass.
In and out like a well-lubricated piston.
He starts running again, lungs stretched beyond
Capacity. Like a single mother with four kids.
Quintessential Couple by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
Quintessential Couple
Stagnant relationship screams, GET OUT and PULL THE
TRIGGER, marked "break up." The
Hand on the diamond ring burns with uncertainty and doubt.
Galloping heart beats against the thought of unity and forever.
Through the boulangerie window, the hand slowly
Butters its croissant, reminiscing. They were the
Quintessential couple. The hand and the ring. The
Thrill and the chase. The gun and the bullet.
I can't pretend
the way I feel tonight
With the warmth of your words,
And that look in your eye,
You get when you try
To look so serious,
You're failing
This feeling
This feeling I have inside
I close my eyes
Even if just for tonight
It may be a lie
But what a beauty
I can't resist
the way you feel tonight
With the warmth of your body,
And your mouth crushing mine
I just might
Lose control, and let you
Do something, despite
Of my morals
I'm losing control
This feeling
This feeling I have inside
I close my eyes
Even if just tonight
It may be a lie
But what a beauty
This feeling I have inside
This Feeling I'v
Do you remember the day we met,
So many years ago?
You were so pretty , I thought,
I made sure to tell my brother so.
You were completely nuts,
Your spirit wild and free;
I dont think at the time I understood,
How important you would become to me;
You would parade me around like your little pet,
And maybe I was at the time
I was your shadow, and your sheep
Always following right behind
We talked about many things,
Sex, mostly, at our sleepovers;
We'd read cosmo magazine articles,
Our heads buried beneath the covers;
At night we used to burn our hair
(To this day I'm not sure why)
Only that we were able to
So we, of course,
All the sad stories by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
All the sad stories
I told a lie
and then it grew
I'm struggling here
I wish you knew
I took your hand
felt satisfied
I need you now
when will you be mine
I think about your face
got lost in your eyes
ould've spent every day of my life
content by your side
But those days are gone
I'm waiting for the feelings to subide
watch the whole world
pass me by
I think its time for me to run away
from all the sad faces in my mind
all the bad places that I find
from all the corruption of mankind
I'll take back my heart
you can have your pride
Its time for me to get away
just get away
get away
from the sad stories in my life
too much drama
encomp
longing for a gentle word
aching for a warm bed
hungering for your caress
tormented by my desire
enslaved by your touch
craving intense passion
pleasuring my depraved body
I didn't want to believe
what my eyes had percieved
I just couldn't concieve that you'd do this to me;
searing pain
don't bother to explain
my heart you have slain
you are the bane of my existence;
devestation;
slow deterioration,
turns to self-mutilation;
from my mouth malediction,
your twisted depiction of what happened that night;
swearing music blaring;
not caring he's staring,
I'm glaring,
eyes double daring him to say another word
Beat me
hit me so hard I bruise black
bleed black
see black
When I touch I feel you
Slash me
slice my body to pieces
so I fall apart
bleed apart
die in part
When I breath I consume you
Rape me
until I bleed pain
scream pain
love pain
When I sleep I dream of you
I want you to use me
and abuse me
I love you
anything,
anything is better than the pain I feel right now
if only you loved me too
The sharp metal gleams in her tiny hands
shining brightly, it tells her of his plans:
I'll take away all the pain you feel inside
all those times you felt alone, all the tears you've cried
I can give you something you've never felt before
it will make you hunger for so much more.
So take my hand and hold me tight
as we make this red-eye flight.
Now its time for me to say goodbye
so draw a line downward from the sky.
Let the torrent rains pour
to rain again nevermore.
For lack of a better title by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
For lack of a better title
Life is a jigsaw puzzle.
One of those you buy from a drugstore to cure the rainy afternoon blues. The kind you spend hours trying to put together, until you're out of pieces, only the puzzle is incomplete.
After all that work, you're missing one lousy piece.
Its like when you're five and your brother tells you "you can fly", and you believe him.
You trust him so much you jump off the fireplace hearth, arms spread. And for those few microseconds you're in the air, you feel anything is possible, like you are not limited to this Earth alone, like you're free.
That is until you realize you're falling, coming down hard, and fast. The impact d
El Baile con Muerte by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
El Baile con Muerte
trumpets blaring
drums pounding
sweat glistens from my weary body
the beat of the drums is calling to me
my feet betray my body as they succumb to the musics spell
a hand reaches out from the humid haze
I let Him guide me
pull me in always deeper
dip me lower and lower
we dance effortlessly
as if we had known each other for a lifetime, we were the one two in the room, and the music was made solely by our bodies intertwined
He spins me round and round
releasing me
holding on until His last finger left mine with a sigh
His feet follow my moves perfectly as we bait each other on the dance floor
we circle one another the way a
The warmth, the security, the limbs intertwined. Fluttering hearts beat, pressed up close, close enough to hear one anothers heart beating fast. Close enough to feel the hot breath upon skin; the breath that sends shivers down your spine that leaves
every crevice of your body aching for more. Soft lips that gently caress mine.
My eyes search yours, as if looking for something deeper, more meaningful, and for those few hours we're together you're it.
For these few hours you are the most caring and attentive man in the world.
I wish this moment could last forever. I could just die right now and be at peace.
Nothing lasts forever
I know t
Help.
They're coming for me
I see them everywhere
in my dreams
my room
my head
They're coming with knives and semi-automatics.
Briefcases of torture devices, and razor sharp teeth.
They're going to devour me whole.
Help.
Please.
They will take away my friends.
banish me.
torture me sadistically.
burn me at the stake.
send me to Hell.
Help.
Please.
This I pray to my agnostic God.
I need you to save my forgery of a soul
save me from myself,
for I am my own worst enemy.
House of Floozies by clairvoyantwaters, literature
Literature
House of Floozies
It all started with a pint of beer
Last November at a fraternity party.
The plight of the virgin man ever present
As their nomads lead the
Way, weaseling into the pants of every
Girl names Angelica Swallows,
Committing treason in every room of the house,
Moaning, "Mmm Rebecca…" Smack.
I don't know how many Johnny's refuse to wear helmets
With sluts that flit about like butterfly tattoos,
And yellow urine testing positive for gonorrhea.
But I know of at least one baby spawned in
The house that flutters with floozies
And sucks the dough from freshman to have a good time.